


show your world to me

by ElasticElla



Series: summer spectacular [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Background Relationships, Crushes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 07:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15286878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: For someone who regularly hangs out with heroes, you’d think he’d have a better handle on it. But Bruce’s cheeks still want to burn whenever the other man so much as smiles at him, and damn, he’s such a goner.





	show your world to me

**Author's Note:**

> le au: after talking to miek, thor doesn't decide to go to earth & offscreen gamora and nebula murked thanos, so no infinity wars ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> title from dmb's crash into me

Bruce’s hearing isn’t particularly good. It’s nothing worth complaining over, certainly not in the vicinity of Clint, but it’s bad enough that every once in a while he tells himself he’ll visit a proper doctor soon. (Of course, he hasn’t had thoughts like that since before the Revengers, before Hulk took over, before Sakaar, before-)

Today though, millions of miles from Earth, hurtling through space in the Statesman, Bruce almost wishes his hearing were worse. 

“-can’t do it deeper, then I’ll take you _majesty_.” 

There’s a low groan, and Bruce is running out of the residential wing. Unfortunately it’s far from the first amorous exclamation he’s heard from Valkyrie and Thor, and he foolishly thought early afternoon would be safe in his quarters. For as oversized and decadent the Grandmaster’s ship is, somehow it has excruciatingly thin walls. From what he’s hazily gathered about his time on Sakaar, he’s pretty sure the design is intentional. 

He heads over to the observation deck, the view taking his breath away before he even gets close. It hits him sometimes, just really hits him that he’s in space. He never obsessed over it as a kid, a distant fantasy that seemed too unreal to seriously consider back then. But now, even with the universe before him, it’s hard to believe. 

Almost as hard to believe that they’ve been realm-shopping for a few weeks now. As Heimdall could directly take them into any universe, he suspects he isn’t the only one enjoying the down time. 

Speak of the hero, Bruce can’t help but think when Heimdall turns out to be sitting on the deck. Heimdall is cool, much like the boys he crushed on while getting his undergrad, devastatingly gorgeous and a little intimidating. (Whether that’s from the golden eyes or his ability to see where ever he wishes, like a god, is undecided. He might even _be_ a god, Bruce doesn’t know how that works.) 

But he’s far more than any of those old crushes, is the reason there are even refugees to save. For someone who regularly hangs out with heroes, you’d think he’d have a better handle on it. But Bruce’s cheeks still want to burn whenever the other man so much as smiles at him, and damn, he’s such a goner. 

“Come sit, doubtless you have no wish to return from whence you came.” 

Bruce winces, sitting beside him. “You uh, see all of the ship?” 

Heimdall laughs low, “Only if I wish it. But my king is a predictable man when it comes to love, and you are running away from something.” 

He scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah. Heh. We don’t seem to be circling anymore?” 

It isn’t the smoothest subject change, but Heimdall merely nods. “We are traveling to a realm that could be Asgard’s sister.”

“No rush huh?” Bruce says. 

“We are taking the ah, ‘scenic route’.” 

“You want to confirm that no one’s hanging around the new place.” 

He smiles, “That too.” 

There’s a lull, a soft silence as they watch the stars come and go.

“I heard you last night,” Heimdall says. 

Bruce chokes on nothing, face flaming hot as he frantically tries to remember if he moaned anything out loud. Fuck, not good, not- 

“That you do not wish to return to Earth yet,” he finishes. 

There’s a twinkle in his eye, and Bruce is suddenly equally relieved and positive that Heimdall deliberately speaks vaguely to mess with people. It isn’t something he’s noticed before, but perhaps they’re friends now, perhaps-

“Bruce?” 

“Right, I won’t hurt Asgardians. Even if I lose control, Thor or Valkyrie could stop me.”

“Or me,” Heimdall says, nudging him. “You won’t miss home?” 

“Yes. No. I won’t miss feeling like a bomb that could be detonated at any point, constantly living in fear of what the Other Guy might do- by accident, or forced to, or to protect himself. In the end, it’s all the same blood. 

“What about you? Will you miss the original Asgard?” 

“Not in a meaningful way. Asgard is a people, everything else can be replaced, recreated. We will thrive once more, and perhaps for the first time in our history truly live a peaceful existence.”

It’s a beautiful statement, so naturally Bruce’s stomach decides to take that moment to gurgle. “Good, I should uh, get something to eat. Do you want anything?” He asks, standing up. 

“I have recently eaten. Korg is playing in the kitchen again, he made a Sakaarian dish. It is rather spicy,” Heimdall says.

“Thanks for the warning,” Bruce answers, meaning it. If an Asgardian found it spicy, it would likely burn off his tastebuds. He’s nearly out the door, when Heimdall speaks once more. 

“There are certain calls that I find impossible to ignore, even if I wish not to intrude upon privacy. Like prayer,” he says. 

“Okay,” Bruce answers, continuing to the kitchen. It isn’t until he’s halfway there that the words click, all the embarrassment from before coming back stronger than ever. 

_Fuck_.


End file.
